


Unbelievable

by Aki (Akiko_Natsuko)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Demons, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hell, Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Trauma, Rescue, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-02 00:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17877611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Aki
Summary: If we attempt to break the deal in any way, you die!It didn’t seem any more real, even with numerous repetitions, and Sam closed his eyes. All he had been able to say at the time had been ‘You’re unbelievable’, and even now he wasn’t sure that he had anything more to say, after all, what else was there to say?When words aren't enough, there are always actions...and sometimes there are more deals to be made.





	Unbelievable

 

     The Impala rumbled as it tore down the road, the interior silent apart from the sound of the engine, as for once there was no music blasting from the speakers and no light-hearted banter between the two occupants. In fact, Sam had almost forgotten that he wasn’t alone as he stared blankly out of the window, eyes not seeing the landscape they were passing through. Instead, he found himself thinking back to a different time and place… of pain, and collapsing against the muddy ground as the world had disappeared in the swirl of colours. Only now, rather than seeing Dean rushing towards him, face contorted with fear and later grief as he realised how bad things were, his brother seemed to burn before his eyes, disappearing even as Sam reached out to him, as his brother’s heart-breaking confession ran on repeat through his head.

_If we attempt to break the deal in any way, you die!_

   It didn’t seem any more real, even with numerous repetitions, and he closed his eyes. All he had been able to say at the time had been ‘ _You’re unbelievable’,_ and even now he wasn’t sure that he had anything more to say, after all, what else was there to say?

    At least now he understood why his brother who had always clung so doggedly to life before, no matter how badly hunts had gone, had been so reluctant in helping him and Bobby with finding a way to break the crossroad deal. But there was no comfort to be gained from that understanding, and his hands clenched into fists in his lap. It had been hard enough to understand how his brother could make a deal with a demon to bring him back in the first place, but to make a deal with no get out clause that they could exploit… _how could Dean have made such a deal?_ It had been their father who had drummed it into both their heads that they always needed to have an escape plan, no matter how desperate it might have been, and yet Dean had done just that.

    What made it worse was that Dean seemed incapable of understanding that Sam wasn’t worth spending an eternity in hell. Sure Dean didn’t know everything about him, and with this hanging, over them, there was no way Sam could put it into words, nor did Dean know about what had really happened that cursed night in Sam’s nursery, but he knew enough. He had their father’s orders to save or kill his brother, and he’d witnessed first hand the hatred that hunters like Gordon felt towards Sam and his abilities, and yet he’d still chosen to sacrifice himself for Sam.

     However, that was Dean all over. He had always done everything within his power to protect their small family, and especially to protect Sam, with little to no regard for his own safety. Even when Sam had hurt him by leaving for Stanford, and with his reluctance to help look for his father, he had still cared. Still risked himself to make sure his little brother made it to college in one piece, and still let Sam go even when he had wanted his help once they’d dealt with the woman in white. It was made worse by the fact that Sam had heard the desperate, heart-broken words his brother had said to Bobby in the junkyard when the older hunter had torn him a new one about what he had done. Hating that his brother still seemed incapable of realising how important he was to Sam, to Bobby, and to the few friends they still had in the wider hunter community.

    Hell, Sam wouldn’t have even made it Cold Oak if it hadn’t been Dean, because without his brother he could’ve perished on many a childhood hunt whether through misfortune, stubbornness, or his brittle relationship with their father. And if wasn’t for Dean, he could have been taken by the same fire that had torn Jessica away from him, by Bloody Mary, or the Skinwalker - the list was endless if he really thought about it, leaving a leaden weight in his chest.  Without Dean, there was no Sam, and if the deal was fulfilled Sam knew that he would rapidly join his brother- because for better or worse, they were in this war together.

"Stop thinking so hard Sammy, I can hear you from over here," Dean's voice broke into his thoughts, the sarcasm in the words a little too forced, and when Sam turned to look at him, it was to find his brother watching him with an all-too-knowing expression. As though he knew exactly what Sam had been thinking about, and he probably did as he had always been better at reading Sam than anyone, although Sam had to admit that it was unlikely that he would’ve been thinking about anything else. Still, the gaze made him uncomfortable, and he turned his head away, looking out the window again, only to come up short as he realised that the car had stopped at some point and that they were currently sat in the Motel carpark. _When did we get back?_

    There was an awkward silence from behind him, and it dawned on him belatedly that his brother was waiting for a reply and he took a shaky breath before flicking a glance at his brother. “Sorry...” He couldn’t bring himself to meet Dean’s gaze, after all, how could he look him in the eyes now that he knew the magnitude of Dean’s sacrifice, and with the burden of knowing what he was and what his abilities were meant for weighing heavily on his shoulders. _I’m not worth that kind of sacrifice Dean,_ he thought, flinching as he heard his brother sigh, easily able to imagine the concerned his expression that his brother would be wearing if he looked up, and the concern in the eyes that would be watching and waiting for a way to help, and he wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and shout, to howl at the unfairness of it all, and to make Dean see that he wasn’t worthy of that level of concern or that kind of sacrifice.

"Sam, about what I said earlier…"

“It’s fine,” Sam cut him off with a despairing shake of his head because right then he couldn’t bear to hear the words that he knew were coming, his nails biting into his palms as he clenched his hands tighter. _I can’t let you do this anymore Dean,_ he thought feeling the words settling under his skin, and becoming resolve. “I get it, I really do,” he added hastily, praying that Dean wouldn’t hear the lie in his words as he fumbled with the car door, and practically tumbled out as it swung open. He couldn’t stay here, not now, and he stumbled back to his feet, desperate to get away from the fear and guilt, and the terrifying realisation that was slowly creeping through him. As soon as he was somewhat steady, he turned and fled, forcing himself not to falter as he heard Dean’s door opening and his brother shouting for him to stop and to talk to him.

He had to get away.

He had to stop the deal.

He had to save his brother.

_I’m sorry Dean._

**

     Those thoughts had become a mantra. A deafening roar at the back of his mind that blocked out everything apart from the need to get as far away as possible, as though he could escape this nightmare that he found himself sinking deeper into with each breath. He might’ve kept going, although deep down he knew that he would never have been able to leave Dean behind, even before all of this had happened. However, eventually he had run out of town, with only the open road stretching out in front of him, and he staggered to a halt, chest heaving, and head bowed, as he realised that he had nothing.

No answers. No words, and nowhere to go.

    A bitter, twisted noise that was somewhere between a sob and a groan slipped out as he glanced around, taking in the empty street, before moving to that he could lean against the closest lamp-post that was casting a dim pool of light around him. _How am I supposed to fix this?_ He thought, closing his eyes to block out the light, and the swirl of thoughts and emotions that were passing through his mind, leaving him reeling, even as he tried to catch his breath. This wasn’t something that could be answered by flicking through their Dad’s journal, or searching the internet, and reaching out to other hunters… there was a fleeting echo of pain in his back, a reminder of what had happened and how they had ended up in this mess, and he knew that they were alone in this. They were alone, and they were trapped by the terms of the deal. The terms that his idiotic, self-sacrificing brother had been all too happy to agree to, and for what? _A monster? A demon? Whatever the hell I really am, I’m not worth that. I never was._

     He can’t and won’t deny that, but it doesn’t mean that the words don’t hurt. That they don’t cut deeper than the knife that had stolen his life, and he flinches violently a moment later when the silence is broken as his cell phone comes to life in his pocket. He wants to ignore it, but a lifetime of being told to always answer the phone has him retrieving it with shaking hands, and he’s unsurprised to see his brother’s name flashing across the screen. There are other missed calls he realises, and for a moment he falters, realising that he had been so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed the phone ringing. _Dean,_ his fingers hover over the button for a moment, knowing that his brother must be half-frantic by now, if not worse, especially after Cold Oak, but he can’t bring himself to answer. Instead, he moves his finger, gnawing at his bottom lip as he waited for it to finish ringing, sighing but unsurprised when the phone vibrated a moment later, signifying a voicemail message, and while he hadn’t been ready to talk to Dean, he couldn’t ignore the message, and his fingers trembled as he dialled the voicemail.

_Sammy? Sammy?! Sam, answer the damn phone, would you! Please, Sammy… I need to know that you’re safe, and we need to talk about this._

_Please,_ _Sammy…_

    Sam wasn’t sure whether it was the concern in Dean’s voice – concern that shouldn’t be there, not now, or the desperation that twisted like a knife in his chest. Or if it was that last ‘ _please Sammy’_ , a plea that he hadn’t heard since just after Jake’s knife had slid into his back. Perhaps it was all of them, piling onto the cracks that had been forming under the weight of his own thoughts, but there was something in the urgent message that made something shatter. He wasn’t sure, all he knew was that the uncertainties that had sent him fleeing from the Impala were melting, replaced by a sinking realisation, and a resolve to fix this. It was his turn to save his brother, to protect Dean, even from himself and he knew what he had to do, just as he also knew that Dean would never forgive him for this. Something that would have given him pause in the past, even when they had been butting heads, and he had been pulling away, but that was then, and this was now. And even if Dean hated him, he would at least be alive to feel that way. _After all, what’s dead should stay dead,_ he thought closing his eyes for a moment. _Especially, someone with demon blood flowing through their veins._

     He was terrified, he could admit that much at least in his own mind, but with his mind made up, it felt as though he could finally breathe again. With his path now set, he glanced down at his phone again and slowly reached out to turn it off, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before his brother would try to track it if he hadn’t already. Slipping it back into his pocket, he straightened and took a deep breath, burying the fear as best he could, already mentally running over what he was going to need to achieve the idea forming the back of his mind.

**

_Please,_ _Sammy…_

     Dean had barely lasted a minute after leaving the pleading voicemail message before he redialed the number. Pacing anxiously back and forth across the motel room as he pressed the phone to his ear. _Come on Sammy._ He knew that he should be relieved that his brother had at least left the phone on, and he glanced across at the laptop set up on his brother’s bed. If he didn’t pick up this time, then Dean would track him down and… This time the phone didn’t even ring. Instead, it went straight through to voicemail and something cold, and heavy sank into the pit of his stomach as he tried again with fumbling fingers, only to get the same result. He cursed as he lowered the phone, head bowed as his fingers tightened around it.

_Sammy don’t do anything stupid._

_Please…_

****

      It had taken Sam longer than he’d like to find everything he’d needed for his plan, something that was made worse by the fact that he knew they had it all between their bags and the boot of the Impala, but there had been no way he was venturing near the motel. They might be like chalk and cheese half the time, but he knew that his brother would have been able to read his intentions on his face and try to stop him, and he couldn’t let that happen. Not this time. _I’m sorry, Dean,_ he thought, guilt, old and new welling up as nearly an hour later he approached the crossroads that lay a ten-minute walk outside of the town, shivering as he glanced around, and he knew that it wasn’t because of the chill in the night air. No, it was fear. Cold tendrils of terror that were breaking through, even though his resolve never wavered and his grip tightened around the precious metal box – scrounged from the local garage, its weight keeping him grounded, and keeping his thoughts somewhat clear and focused.

_I’m going to save Dean. I have to save Dean._

     However, despite his certainty, as he drew closer to the centre of the crossroads, he found himself slowing down, feeling as though he was moving molasses as he took the last few steps. _Save Dean,_ he reminded himself, as he crouched and with hands that trembled a little too much for his liking, he scraped a shallow hole into the soil by his feet. It some strange way, it was comforting to know that his brother had done this too, even if he desperately wished that Dean hadn’t done so, and his hands were a little steadier as he seized hold of that thought and carefully set the box down in the hole and scraped the soil back over it. _Please,_ he thought as he took a deep breath and rose to his feet, before taking a step back, glancing around, not entirely sure what he was waiting for, his heart already hammering in his chest.

“Well, well, this is certainly a surprise.” The voice when it came made him flinch, and as he spun around to seek the source, he was highly aware of how vulnerable he was out here. No weapons, no tricks up his sleeve, no Dean…and nothing to really offer but a prayer, and he swallowed, as he found himself staring into crimson eyes. It was a woman he realised after a moment, but he took no comfort from that, or that apart from the eyes, she looked like a regular human being, not after everything they had seen. And not when she was studying him curiously, one eyebrow raised, and a smile that could only be described as mocking playing across her lips. “What can I do for you, Sammy Winchester?” He bristled at the nickname that only Dean was allowed to use, but he bit back the flicker of irritation, knowing who held the power here.

“Dean…” He started once he was sure that he could trust his voice, only to be cut off as she held up her hand in warning. The curiosity in her gaze shifting towards amusement as she tilted her head for a moment, and he wasn’t sure what she was looking for or whether she had found it because her smile grew as she took a half step forward.

“I would be very careful what you say here, Sam, as I’m sure that you are aware of the conditions of Dean’s deal?” It wasn’t really a question, but what had him frowning, was the note of concern that he could detect beneath the mocking and amusement, and for a moment all he could see was yellow eyes, and he shook his head, before lifting his head and meeting her gaze without hesitation.

“I know the terms.” _I wish that I didn’t. I wish that he had never been foolish enough to agree to them,_ there was so much more he could say, but he knew that those words would mean nothing to the demon in front of him. “And I want to make a deal,” he stated firmly, relieved that his voice came out steady, despite the fear that was still clawing at him.

“A deal to save your brother?”

“Dean doesn’t deserve to die,” Sam said firmly, ignoring the smirk that had replaced her earlier smile, and the almost hungry expression that followed as she sashayed towards him. He held his ground despite the predator’s grace that he could see in her movement, holding her gaze, as she closed the last of the distance between them, although he wasn’t as successful in hiding his flinch as she reached up and ran a hand down his arm.

“Feeling guilty, are we?” She murmured, tongue flicking delicately over her lips as she eyed him up, and he stood rigid, feeling exposed beneath her gaze, but refusing to do or say anything that might jeopardise his chances. That seemed to be the right stance to take because after a moment she drew back. “Perhaps, I could be tempted to help you, after all, it’s hard to resist those desperate eyes,” her fingers brushed against his cheek this time, before she stepped back, adopting a calculating expression as she crossed her arms. “However, it would depend on what you were offering, and what you wanted of course.”

    Sam took a deep breath, the fear settling a little now that the moment was here. He took a second, wanting to make sure that he had his words in order, refusing to make a mistake, or leave a loophole in what he was requesting. “I want Dean’s deal voided, and for him to be spared of any punishment for that. And I don’t want him to be able to make another deal, no matter what he offers.” His voice grew stronger with each word, unyielding by the end, as there was no way in hell that he was going to leave open a chance for his brother to try and make another deal on his behalf because he knew that Dean would. His words were greeted with a flicker of surprise, although it didn’t bleed through to his voice as she demanded.

"And what would I get in return?"

“Me. You get me,” Sam answered without hesitation, before adding more quietly. “Just let me have the chance to say goodbye to him, and then you can take me.” It might be selfish of him to ask that much, but he couldn’t just leave, because he knew that his brother would never rest until he knew what happened. At least this way, he could say goodbye, something that had been stolen from them in Cold Oak because it had been so sudden, and he could make sure that Dean understood that this was it. That his death was the end of this cycle of deals and false hopes, and sacrifices.

“You’re not going to ask for more time?” The surprise was back, her gaze searching as she looked up at him, and he shook his head.

"No.” _I wish I could. I wish that I could have a lifetime with him, but I know that’s not on the table,_ he thought, glancing towards where he had buried the box. “I don’t want Dean to tear himself apart searching for an out that doesn’t exist.” He had experienced that pain first hand, and he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy, let alone Dean.

"How valiant, but didn't he do that to you?"

"I don't care,” Sam growled. He had been hurt and angry when he’d first realised that was exactly what had happened, and that Dean had watched himself working himself into the ground and hadn’t said anything, but he understood. It had been hellish searching for answers, and turning up empty at every turn, but at least he’d still had a faint spark of hope to cling to. Having that torn away had hurt more, and now, somehow, he knew why his brother had done it. However, even if he hadn’t understood, he couldn’t have done it, and his hands curled into fists as he added tightly. “I don’t want to hurt him anymore, so no I won’t ask for more time, and I won’t make him search for an answer that doesn’t exist. So, will you make the deal?” It came out more impatiently than he’d intended, but she didn’t seem offended as she gazed into the distance for a moment before crimson eyes focused on his once more, and there was a pause before she smiled.

"I will make the deal Samuel Winchester," she said slowly, and there was a note of something more – not quite reluctance, but something – in her voice, and expression, as he couldn’t quite contain his sigh of relief. “And, because I’m feeling in a generous mood tonight, I won’t send my hounds to collect your debt, sparing your brother the sight of you being ripped to pieces. Instead, you’ll die as you died in Cold Oak, only this time you won’t be coming back. Does that sound fair to you?” Sam swallowed, remembering the pain and terror of Cold Oak, and Dean’s terrible grief, but it was better than the thought of hell hounds hunting him down. Not that he’d had any intention of running, and at least his death would be quick, and he nodded as she arched an eyebrow in question.

"Yes," he said, realising that she was waiting for a verbal response as she didn’t move. He wasn’t sure what to make of her ‘generosity’, and part of him wanted to ask, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. His curiosity forgotten a moment later, as she stepped forwards, leaning up to kiss him with a lot more passion than he’d expected, and he resisted the urge to pull back, as he felt something ripple over them, a weight settling in his chest as she pulled back with a smile.

“It is done, so go and find your brother and say your farewells.” It was a command and a warning not to take his time about his part of the bargain, not that he’d had any intention of it anyway, but before he could say anything like that she had disappeared.

    Stunned, both that his desperate hope had been granted and with her offer that he lingered them for a couple of minutes, just gazing around the crossroads before he was finally able to shake off his shock. He took a last glance at where he had buried the box, before he turned and began to head back towards the lights of the town, knowing that it hadn’t been an idle threat in her voice and that he had to find Dean. As his thoughts turned to his brother, he reached up to pat his pocket. Paper crinkled underneath the touch, and he sighed, hoping that he would have the chance to say the words himself, but if not, at least Dean would have the letter to tell him what had happened.

**

    It seemed to take forever, and yet no time at all before the motel came into view, and he equally relieved and dismayed to see the Impala parked outside. It meant that Dean was there and that he wouldn’t have to search across the town for his brother, but it also meant that there was no more to time, and he faltered for a moment. It felt strange standing here, knowing that he was within minutes of death, and in a way, he wished that he didn’t know what was to come and that this was going to be as sudden and unexpected as his first death. However, the situation was what it was, and at least Dean was going to be safe, and unable to rush off and throw his life away again. _He’s safe, and that’s all that matters._ He had finally done what his brother had been doing for him, for his entire life, and that helped to alleviate some of the fear and guilt he was feeling. He just hoped that Dean would be able to forgive him eventually.

_Please, don’t hate me for this Dean._

      With that thought at the forefront of his mind, he took a deep breath and forced himself to move again, heading towards there room and trying to brace himself for the mess to come. He took a lingering look at the Impala as he passed, a silent farewell to the loyal car that had been their home for so long before he reached the door. He didn’t hesitate this time, feeling the pressure of time slipping through his fingers as he cautiously opened the door and slipped inside, head down as he waited for the storm to wash over him.

"Sam!" He flinched at the sheer volume of his brother’s voice, lifting his head to look at his brother, realising that Dean must’ve been pacing back and forth, if the way he had just twisted around was any indication, and he winced as Dean glared at him with blazing eyes. “Where the hell have you been? And what were you thinking taking off like that?”

"Dean, I…"

"Seriously Sammy,” Dean cut across him, stalking towards him now, voice growing louder with each word. “I was out of my mind with worry, and then you turned your bloody phone off! Have you forgotten there's a couple of hundred extra demons out there now, and that most of them are gunning for us? I can't believe…" He was getting into his stride now, and Sam had a wild moment of feeling like a teenager again, although then it hadn’t been his brother shouting at him, but his father, although it had probably had less impact that his brother’s efforts. It was almost enough to bring a smile to his lips, and he sighed, leaning back on his heels as he settled in to wait out the rant, knowing that it was Dean’s way of showing concern, and that he wasn’t going to get a word in edgeways until he was done.

     However, all thoughts of patience and waiting it out were torn asunder as there was a sudden pressure against his back. Pressure, that became agony, as it twisted its way deeper and deeper, a sickening fire that lanced across his back. It was eerily familiar, in a way that he had never thought possible, as the original time had been a nauseating blur of pain and shock, that had descended all too quickly into darkness. This was slower, and he almost laughed at the fact that he had thought she was showing him mercy. Almost, because he was falling now, his legs giving way beneath him as an agonised noise was pulled from his lips.

    Sam had been patiently listening to his brother's rant, knowing that it was only Dean's way of showing concern. However, his patience was thrown aside as an eerily familiar sharp pain shot across his back causing him to cry out as his legs gave way beneath him.

"Sammy!" Dean’s tirade had cut off at some point he realised belatedly, and then Dean was there, catching him just before he hit the ground and pulling him into his arms just as he had back then. His anger completely derailed, fear filling his voice as he searched for injuries. “Sammy? Sammy? Where are you hurt?” 

“Back…” Sam whispered, caught halfway between the present and the memory of Cold Oaks, and he blinked, trying to ground himself in there here and now because he knew that he didn’t have long. Could feel it in the chill seeping under his skin, and the weakness crawling through his body, and with difficulty he focused on Dean’s face, needing to see him, needing him to hear his words. “A-at least this time, I can say goodbye…” Above him Dean went still, fingers curling against him, pausing his frantic search for the injury, and his voice when he spoke was strangled.

"Sam, what have you done?"

"What's dead should stay dead Dean," Sam felt bad for throwing those words at him, but it was true, and he had to pause, breath catching as another wave of pain crashed over him, and his vision dimmed worryingly for a moment. “I c-couldn’t let you…go to hell for me,” he forced out through gritted teeth, clinging on by the skin of his teeth, trying to say what needed to be said. What he hadn’t been able to say last time.

"Damn it, Sammy." There were tears in Dean's voice now, and there might have been some on his cheeks too now, but Sam’s vision was greying and fading with each gasping breath that he took, and he curled his fingers against Dean’s arm, slumping further into his hold as he shook his head.

"I don't r-regret it. I-it's the way it should be." Sam could hear that he was getting fainter and fainter with each word. The cool fingers of death that had been so fast to claim him last time, crawling up his spine and somewhere in the distance he found feel a burning, malevolent heat brushing his awareness even as his eyes began to drift shut and a last flash of consciousness had him feebly gripping his brother.

"Letter…pocket…L-love you. " The most forbidden word in the Winchester vocabulary slipped out, and he had a fleeting glimpse of Dean’s face contorted with grief, before he fell, pulled under completely by the darkness.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of a very old fic, that was published under my original name: Solotaire over on ffnet back in the day (and boy did it need rewriting)


End file.
